Not yet Forgotten
by prowess
Summary: would you like a sequel? Sorry to those who excruciatingly waited. I moved the rating up a notch. Harry is dead, but his spirit still is around, following his one true love. If you're in for a few tears, I guess you could read this.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, no one really, except the ones you don't see in JK Rowling Books. I don't know if I added new people here, Ron's girlfriend is one. 

A/N: I'm miserable. I can't upload the new chapter for 'While Eating Crunch' since our computer went completely bonkers and hangs every time I click the upload chapter button. It was infuriating! Er…anyways, since I CANT upload chapters, I decided to write a new fic. Good thing our computer was kind enough to leave the upload fic alone, so that at least I could write new ones. Hopefully, it won't lose it's brain off, and hang that as well, because I'll just have my mom replace it! breathing heavily Well, come on…you know how it is when you can't upload fics….other authors out there…our computer doesn't deserve pity…(I better stop now, it just might shut off…)

This is written in POV style (it's easier to write that way, you won't have to think of synonyms for say and ask…pretty boring to read "he said, she said" all the time…) and Harry is dead. Just see what happens…Please r/r While Eating Crunch, even without the second chapter…and read this too, and review. Questions, suggestions, email me at silver_prowess@yahoo.com

Not Yet Forgotten 

By prowess

It's already half past five and you're still not here. I've been waiting for hours even before you usually arrive, and now it's nearly getting dark. Where are you? I don't know what to feel really, worry? Anger? Panic? It's not normal that you come late for anything. I'm getting fidgety and everything, I just want you to come here…

Ever since I died, you had always found peace and happiness near me, and me to you. Every day you would pass by the cemetery guard, who already knew you by heart because of your constant visits, and you would walk straight from the guardhouse, past the flower shops. Sometimes you would stop at those shops, buy a small basket of flowers and walk on. You pass by the bridge, stop slightly and gaze at the lake, and then think. I know what you're thinking of. You are thinking of what our future could be if I hadn't died. I liked your idea of us marrying, I've thought of that too, and I smile but when you start thinking of that night, my happiness would seep out of me.

That night when we both died, Voldemort and I. I killed him, but he was able to say one last spell and I wasn't able to dodge off. I only saw your worried eyes when I woke up, and when I sat up; my body didn't come with me. 

I was dead. 

I wasn't even a ghost, not like Sir Nick, I was a spirit, unseen but felt, and I looked around and saw everyone. Dumbledore, Ron, Sirius was there too, he was already free, Professors Lupin and even Snape were there, and even Hedwig and Hagrid, then there was you. Your worried eyes, spilling tears of lost hope and deep sorrow, hands, shaking, cupped to my chin, which was cold (I know), pleading that I open my eyes and wake up. I couldn't. I was too late, it wasn't your fault, not how you thought it was. It never was your fault. I told you not to call the others; I didn't want you to leave me, or to be alone with him during the last moments of my life. I knew it was coming, and he knew it was his time too. He was vanquished forever, a greater power inside of me, one that up till now no one can decipher the origin, had burst out and killed him. It was more powerful than the Avada Kedavra, more powerful than any of those major curses put together. So great they said it was, they named it after the only person who used it, for the first and last time. Me. I myself had been surprised at the sight. It came though, with a terrible price. My death? That wasn't half of it. The greatest and most heart aching thing it gave me was your tears that continued to fall, day and night. I couldn't stand to see you cry, and never there passed a day that you cried, that I didn't too. 

But then, I would come and comfort you, my spirit floating beside you on the bridge. I'd try to hug you, even if I can't feel anything, and even if my arms would sometimes pass through your body, and send you shivers. You knew I was there, and you'd become cheerful again. 

After walking through the bridge, drying a few tears, you pass by a series of roads and other museums built. Then you'd pass by a very big one, the Malfoys museum, and turn right. Following the stony pathway, heartbeat quickening, you turn left and walk straight to the last museum there, near the river. The Potters Museum. Not very large, just small enough to house the three of us, my mum my dad, and now myself. You'd go in, hand three or four flowers in my mom's tomb, light a few candles in my dad's and place the rest of the flowers on the basket on mine. Then you'd close your eyes, and silently cry. I was watching you, always. I try to comfort you again by coming close so you could feel me, but the sadness and hurt pangs your heart so much, you never notice me there. You spill your worries, your stories, events of the day, what happened to Crookshanks and Ron's coat. I listened to them all, laughing when you had a great day, crying when it's your worst day, most of all, regretting when you say you wish I was there, may it be joy or pain. After about an hour, you get up, blow the candles and leave the cemetery and go back to your work. This has been everyday for a couple of months, and now was the very first time you missed visiting me. And it's just so exacerbating, because I think that you've…forgotten me.

The night I died, you stayed the whole night long, holding my hand, sleeping for only a few hours, and waking back up again. You couldn't accept I was dead. The next day, I was in this place, some witch said a spell that removed my bruises, place make-up on my cold, rock-hard face. When they left, you were still here, holding my stiff hand.  You spoke to me, like I never died. And then when I was placed in the casket for the wake, you whispered something.

"You are handsome. Like you have always been." Tears spilling, I hurriedly reached your face and tried to wipe them away, but they passed through my fingers. I became frustrated at myself, not being able to hold you, even unable to hold myself, nor hug myself and cry, it was so painful. But then I hoped you felt me, and sometimes you do, other times it was just too hard. At least you got to know I was there, more than once, and you also told the little first years I was in their hearts. 

My funeral, quiet, solemn, gloomy. There was a Eulogy, Dumbledore, Ron and you had speeches, all red nosed and puffy eyed. Voices fading, you finished your speeches and went back to your seats wiping tears away with handkerchiefs. It wasn't a very nice sight, people mourning for you. Well, yes I should be happy or flattered that many people thought of my death as an honorable one, and that many paid respect, but the fact that you died, whether honorable or not doesn't change the hurt you feel, unable to touch, to hear responds…

My casket was placed in the museum, in the middle of the remains of mum and dad, who after these months have tried to ease the pain I feel until now. And when everyone went off, you and Ron stayed here. It made me happy that you remember me, and Ron too, that's why I always anticipate your visits; hear your stories, events I would never experience with you ever again. I understand that Ron sometimes can't make it, being a family man and all. But I know that he has a lot of money now, very successful together with June, now able to spend more than enough for his mother and father. And I'm also grateful that you come everyday to visit me, despite your busy schedule. 

How selfish of me, to think of you to come here everyday, but, I can't help it. I miss you so much. I follow you sometimes, and see that you mingle with a lot of people. Some new faces, new places, new events. And even if I'm there, I can't spend the time with you. 

So now I've decided to find you, since you probably won't come here anymore, ever, I' d look for you, so that I'd be with you always. It's just heartbreaking to think that they have already forgotten me, because they know I always think about them. That after only a couple of months, they'd stop visiting, their trips here lessening, from week per week, to month per month, then once a year, or just during the holiday for the dead. It's like I was nothing to them, I can't hear them calling me, and everyone seems so busy. 

I'm already in Hogwarts, seeing that Hagrid has some new animals, very happy talking to the newborns and grooming the feathers and skins of the mature ones. I went inside, a group of first years were very busy and nervous about their final exams, they had a new DADA Professor, I see, and hopefully, that person would break the rumor that the position is cursed. Professor Dumbledore, still busy as usual, Professor Snape, why would he think about me?

I see that Hermione wasn't there, and Ron too, so I decided to look someplace else.

They're probably in Ron's house, so I floated away from the school and towards the Burrow. Ron's house is just beside it, so that he could easily attend to his parents. When I was nearing it, however, I heard voices. Happy-tuned voices. They were having a little merrymaking in there. Of course, I wasn't invited. It was one of Ron's daughter's birthday and delicious smells came from the buffet area, there was a dance floor and there were a series of games played by almost everyone. Hermione was among them.

She seemed to be enjoying herself, and for a moment there, she felt happy, she was smiling, laughing, joking around. I was a happy for her. On the other hand, I was angry. How could have she forgotten me? Why? It's like nothing happened between us, nothing occurred for seven years. I remembered how quickly she wants to leave the cemetery, quickly blowing the candles, hurrying up tidying, and then I realized that she was so eager to go away, and have fun, completely forgetting me.  

I don't know how to feel, it's just that…I miss you. I don't know, I don't know. It just isn't fair. Why doesn't anyone notice me anymore? I just feel so alone. It's like after a few months, weeks, actually, I'm completely forgotten. Who cares if I'm forgotten by Hogwarts? I'm forgotten by my two closest friends. They aren't even remembering me here. 

I just thought of how it was possible. Sat around and thought while they were almost at tears because of happiness. Who cares if no one remembers me? What pains me is how quickly they disregarded me. Just only yesterday, Hermione and Ron visited me, and now they're gone. I fear that this is the start of the years that I would be inexistent, not just physically, even gone in their hearts. 

I continued to watch, as children scuttle around playing their games, adults joking, gossiping even, or talking about current events, but none of them talking about me. My death just happened weeks ago, and now, it's as if I didn't die. It's as if I was never born, even. 

And then there was the blowing of cake, the candles lighting up by themselves. Fred and George never lost their interest for mischief and replaced one candle with a tricky one, charmed to never go off-EVER. 

Ron's daughter, Kristin, was getting a bit worried, continually huffing and filling her mouth with as much air as possible. Her eyes were teary, showing that she wanted this to end, saying that she feared the heat of the candle would melt all the icing of her cake, which was made by Mrs. Weasley. Kristin's concern for her cake brought laughter to some of the adults there.  Of course, they sensed something fishy, especially Ron and his mother, so the twins quickly hurried up to their niece and took the still flaming candle and threw it in a basin of water, which one of them prepared. Of course, it was still lit, but because of the water it went off occasionally and then would light again.  While everyone else was eating cake, a very angry Mrs. Weasley and Ron, talked to the twins. This was the first time Ron didn't enjoy their jokes.

I however, went to Hermione, who was sitting beside Dumbledore, who just came, chatting about news, each other's lives, and the like. I can't stop thinking that they weren't talking about me. Both of them were very cheerful and relaxed actually, unlike their faces during my funeral, which I liked a bit. At least Hermione is very happy now, even without me. 

Hermione realized it was getting late, so she bid goodbye to everyone, greeted Kristin again and talked to the child for a while, saying she was different, having a party at night, unlike other children who'd want it in the afternoon. Then she went off. She was very worried, I can see, and then I knew that because of all the things in her mind, she wouldn't be visiting me today, maybe not even tomorrow. 

It was kind of depressing, to think that you're forgotten. I can't stop thinking about that. But I have to move on, and they have to as well. I have to accept I'm dead, and all I can do now is to cherish the wonderful moments I have experienced while I'm alive. Being away from the Dursley's, going to Hogwarts, meeting Hermione…things that even death cannot separate from me. 

I stayed a bit longer at the party, then I started to float back to the cemetery. I past the guardhouse, (literally) and overheard the guard talking about someone pleading to be let in. How lucky for that dead person being visited, even after closing time. I gloomily walked past tombs and museums, saw a couple of people still there, these were probably who the guard was talking about, there was grandmother bidding her husband goodnight, and a man beside her, her son. 

I passed through the doors of our museum, and there stood my mother and father smiling at me. Looking at who was by my grave. 

Hermione.

When I saw her, I felt so guilty at myself, for having to think she forgot me, and every bad thought that came over my head about everybody who cared for me- Ron, Dumbledore, herself, were all erased. I sat beside her, stroking her hair, and she was crying, silently, but gladly for me, not as painfully as before. She was tracing the letters written in my grave, talking about what happened today. 

"She felt you," my mother started, her angelic voice echoing inside, "she was talking about it a while ago. How you touched her during the party. That's why she came here tonight."

"She thought the guard wouldn't let her come in. She was so happy and relieved to be here." My father added. I was very happy too. 

She fell asleep there, I was always by her side. If she had just stayed there for just a couple of minutes, I would be very happy, just because she remembered me. 

But now I finally understand that she still has a life to live, just like everyone else I have left behind. Now, I know what I want for her. I want her to stop crying for me, and continue her life, like I never died. I want her to be free, and explore the world, because the world still has so much to give her. So many more dreams to achieve, so many more adventures to experience, so many more lessons to learn. Not to mention so many more jokes to laugh about, even so many more tears to cry.  I want her to stop worrying about me, because I'm always there. And I want her to know that I'm always in her heart, and that when she calls me, I'm always with her. 

Though there would be a lot separating me from you, I would never forget everything you would have done for me. There would always be the joy that I feel, how my heart leaps when you are near me, the pain we felt, how you comfort me, the encouraging you did, pushing me to go on, when I've lost all hope. 

It's ironic to think that a couple of hours before, I wanted her to stop her life and just come to me everyday. I was wrong. She should be happy, she deserves to be. And I know that she would still remember me, even if she doesn't visit me. I'd watch her grow, perhaps help her meet a man that would ease all her burdens. If they'd marry, I'd be happy for them, and I'd be proud of her. I'd watch her grow old, her hair would turn to gray, and she would have grandchildren, and she would tell stories about me, about us, and our adventures. I know that I'll miss her, and everyone, and that I'll be sad when they'd stop visiting me anymore, but I can always come to her, when she can't come to me, and hopefully, like what happened a few hours ago, she'd feel me. And then I'd wait for her to come with me, and we would start a conversation that would last for a long time. 

I kissed her forehead as she starts to wakes up…

A/N: I don't know if this made you cry, I just thought about it while watching news. Not that I watch news everyday…it was about this actress here whose boyfriend died and her sister was having a party for her daughter, and she attended the party, and they were all happy and I just thought, what if the boyfriend was watching, how would he feel seeing that his girlfriend was already happy, just after months that he died. Finally, I wrote an angsty fic, I don't know if it's really angsty but it's my first angst fic. It's better reading angst than making one. Please R/R! I'm thinking of continuing it…


	2. Still Believing

A/N: Finally I had time to write new chapters for all you guys to read. I hope you like this new chapter for Not Yet Forgotten (I'm still thinking of a better title). Thanks to the people who reviewed this and I hope you'd be able to read and like this next one. To my first few reviewers, thanks for reviewing and credits will be at the end of the fic. Thanks a lot and I hope you enjoy!

By the way to all who complained about the museum-mausoleum thing- I know it's supposed to be mausoleum but I can't change it yet because of computer problems. I'd start using mausoleum now, so just pretend I did with the previous chapter as well. I hope I cleared that up…

Chapter 2: Still Believing

            The warm sunlight shadowed her pale face as her eyes fluttered open. Her eyes widening, she looked around at the place she spent her night in. She was like a butterfly free from her cocoon, looking around an unfamiliar place. I have been watching her all night, her gentle breathing calming my soul. I just stood there, waiting patiently for her next move, as she stands up and fixed mum's flowers. 

            Hermione's attention was diverted to the stained glass window as faint taps were heard. Going out of the mausoleum, she saw Hedwig, with her white wings flapping soundly, very eager to see her. 

            "Hedwig, what are you doing here?" she asked quite amused. Hedwig just cooed. 

            " I can't believe you followed all the way here, to Harry." She added, as she extended her arm to let the owl rest. At that moment, a purr was heard as something passed Hermione's feet. 

            "Crookshanks! You came too?" she laughed not believing what she saw.

            "I can't believe you missed me so much…" She commented.

            "How can they not?" I asked loudly. Then I forgot I was dead and unable to get in touch with anyone. But I didn't care.

            "You're charming and caring and lovely and beautiful. How can anyone not miss you?" I asked, hoping she would answer back. Instead she just continued to pat Hedwig's head and stroke Crookshanks back, as if nothing happened. Maybe in her side, nothing really happened, but to me, it meant a lot. How can she not, hear me? She felt me, she came last night! It was a miracle! But now it was like nothing was happening all over again. It's like this connection I had with her last night was gone. And suddenly I was filled with heat. I felt anger rush in me. But I didn't do anything. It just came and went, and it left in the form of tears. I never knew that I can still cry. Not in this kind of life, I shouldn't be, but I am. And maybe it's better that way. But it was still unfair. Nothing was ever fair. She never really felt me at all, maybe it was just coincidence, maybe…

"Don't push it Harry." A voice echoed. It was dad. Mum was beside her, worried about me again. My dad's face was emotionless, yet I can feel his concern for me and for the woman I love. 

"She felt you dear. Believe it! But don't be too selfish." My mother explained. 

"She will hear you, believe us. Just give her room and time and the freedom to." I sat on the corner looking at her through the open door, murmuring at the two animals. Then, I saw Hedwig look at me. 

It was as if my heart was satisfied with hope again as Hedwig's head tilted to the side, not removing her eyes off me, as if asking me what I was doing sitting by the corner. She can actually see me. I moved to the side, her eyes followed me. I ran up front, she still had her eyes on me. I danced and jumped around. She probably got tired of watching me and called to her friend, Crookshanks. They both looked at me and I knew then and there that they can communicate with each other as they looked at me once more. 

"Hedwig, you've got to help me talk to Herm, alright?" Hedwig wasn't looking at me anymore. It was as if she was hearing nothing again.

"Look I know you can hear me, both of you. And it's very important that you help me get to talk to Herm! Now!" I started to shout at them and beg.

"I promise you…" I started.

"Promise them what Harry?" my father butted in again. "What can you give them in exchange for Hermione? You really think you can give them something? Harry you must remember you are dead. You cannot talk to them and expect a reply. You can't hug them and expect to be hugged back. You must know your limitations Harry. You..are…dead-"

"I am not dead, dad! At least I believe I am not. If you and mum think that I am dead, I know I'm not. Because I am still in Hermione's heart. And as long as I'm in there I'm never going to be dead!" I knew dad would go away. He floated through the window and left mum and me inside. Mum was nearly in tears.

"Harry-" she started. I looked away.

"Harry, you know that your father doesn't really think you are dead. It's just that he wants you to know your limitations. And he wants you to be patient about Hermione. It's not going to work if you try to make her hear you. She must do it in her own pace. Even Hedwig and Crookshanks know that. Don't ever think that she will never feel you. Because she always does." My mum, in a loving motherly way hugged me from behind, as I was still faced away from her. I held her hand and turned around. 

"Look at her Harry. See how happy she is? Whenever you need her, you don't need words. You don't need to tell her anything, she doesn't need to hear you or see you or feel you. She would just remember and everything wrong will go away. Whenever you need her, just go to her and look at her. That's all the both of you need." I looked at Hermione, following my mother's advice. She was still talking to Crookshanks and Hedwig, laughing and petting them. And mum was right. I felt so light and free. 

I never really thought this would really happen to me. So much has happened today and there was an outburst of so much emotion. 

"You know what? I think we should be heading home now. Ginny might be calling any minute." Hermione carried Crookshanks as Hedwig flew to her shoulder. She looked at my new dwelling place and whispered, "Bye Harry. I'll see you next time."

I didn't follow her after she left. I just sat in my corner and thought. I thought about how important it is for me if I was able to contact Hermione, my confidant, my strength, my love.  And I thought if it was really necessary. I don't know much about these deep questions of mine, but I'm hoping they get answered soon. Meanwhile, I'll just be sitting here, and waiting. 

It always played in my mind how Hermione talked to me, just before she left the cemetery. _I'll see you next time._ I never thought it would have a double meaning to it. I knew what see meant. It meant visit, I'll visit you next time. But part of me insisted that it meant something else. To see, a sight, I wanted it to mean that Hermione will actually see me. Maybe that's what she meant. But then again, maybe not.

Whatever she meant, it will never be erased in my heart, if I still have one, that I will never be forgotten. At least not by her. And that was enough, actually more than enough for me. So I would still be here. Still hoping that she will be able to feel me, then hear me, then see me, then touch me. I am still believing that that time will come, when I'll be able to hold her again, and kiss the lips I've been longing to kiss, which passed by my spirit everytime I tried. I still believe I'll be alive. 

A/N: Well, it's a little short now, but I hope that it is satisfying. I hope you guys liked it, and I don't know if you really cried and got all aching inside with this fic, and I also don't know if I'd be happy or not, but if you did cry, well, good for the both of us. Good for you that you found a nice fic and good for me that it was enjoyed by one. Here are reviewers I'd like to thank:

SleepieCareBear: I'm glad you enjoyed it. I hope you liked this too.

Soul of darkness: I don't think I need to tell you anything..

Slayer: I know it gets pushed. But oh well that's life in ffnet…

Lala: here's another chapter. I hope you like this either way


	3. Ears of the Heart

A/N: I've decided to continue this story as well… It won't be fair that What's held Within is the only fic I have that is progressing, wouldn't it? If all goes well, I could be posting a new chapter to What's Snow Like, which have garnered a good amount of reviews thanks guys. 

Anyways, I hope that you guys would review and enjoy this chapter. Thanks.

Disclaimer: Never was, never will be mine. 

**Ear of the Heart**

By Prowess

I've been trying for days, yet they've chosen to ignore me.

Those pets I called my friends, Hedwig and Crookshanks weren't responding anymore, though I know they can see me. Maybe dad was right. 

Was I being too selfish?

Of course not! All I ever wanted and will ever want, is for Hermione to touch me, to see me, to feel me like how I want her too. Maybe, I have to let go, but there is just a part of me that says I have to hold on, a part of me demands to live again, because I deserve to. A part of me says that to hold on is what I have to do. Or maybe that is just the part of me that lives in dreams and fantasies, the part that never gets a hold of reality. I don't know. I am confused, but one thing is certain.

Hermione, I won't ever let go.

"Hedwig, don't go flying off again, alright? You are safer here. I'm just going to buy some food. We are all out of peanut butter can you believe?" I heard you say, your voice like a siren's song, luring me, controlling me. I sighed, watching you fix your auburn hair, wrapping your sweater tighter around your slim body, grabbing the keys and gently closing the door. 

Now was my chance. I walked over to Crookshanks and sat in front of him. 

"Crookshanks," I whispered, trying to be as nice as I could, though I was filled with impatience. "Hey, it's Harry remember? Your friend? Hermione's friend?" I asked, trying to establish a good connection towards the animal. He looked at me, the slits in his eyes staring straight at me. He purred, and my heart skipped a beat. _Was that his answer?_ I questioned myself. 

He purred again, but it didn't sound like a good purr. It sounded like he was being sarcastic. When I realized it, he lazily swished his tail as he turned away, walking towards the window. I almost cursed, but I knew that if I did, the cat won't participate the more. Inhaling deep breaths to control my anger, I moved towards Hedwig, who was by the sofa.

"Hey Hedwig, remember me?" I asked again.

She hooted, as her head turned to look at me, her wide eyes looking at mine. At least she was more cooperative. I guess our friendship was strong after all. 

"Good girl, Hedwig," I answered. "Are you willing to help me?" I inquired again, hoping to take a step forward, towards my mission. She hooted again, but then turned away.

"No Hedwig, don't turn away, please…" I pleaded. It was obvious that she refused. But I will be persistent. 

"Please, Hedwig, you have to help me. What do I have to do to make you say yes?" Of course she couldn't answer, but a voice echoed in my head.

Why…

It went. I was shocked, where did it come from, then I saw her looking at me…

Was she asking me why?

I wasn't able to answer. Why? I thought about it, why did I want to see Hermione again? Is it just for personal gain? Or is it something else…

"Because," I started, "I love her with all my heart, with all my body, with all my soul…" I ended looking at myself. I used to say that to her, whenever we had one of those nights, wherein it was just the two of us, and we'd be in the roof of her apartment, and we were just admiring the stars. Look at me, I'm a soul. And I still love her like I used to. 

I guess my declaration of love proved to be true after all. Even if it is all I had left, Hermione,   
I love you with all my soul. 

Then I heard a growl from behind me…Crookshanks seemed to disagree. No way, it wasn't a lie, it was true! Why would I be in so much trouble trying to talk to you if it weren't!

I knew he was angry, but I didn't know he would attack. His back was curved, his tail was straight, it looked as if he would lunge at me, although, a thought kept appearing in my mind…

Was he able to touch me?

He jerked towards me, as I was unable to anything but accept his attack, then just when I thought he hit me, he passed through, a shocked expression on both our faces. But as he was falling down, I felt him…His fur brushed against me, and then I had an idea. I looked at the two animals as they seemingly argued about Hedwig's reaction to me. Hedwig was flapping her wings, and she seemed disgusted at Crookshanks. Well at least Hedwig remained loyal to me…

I quietly moved towards the cat, whose arched back faced me. Slowly, I extended my arms, and gently positioned my four fingers underneath Crookshank's coat, and applied a little pressure in my thumbs, which were on his back. His growling stopped, and I felt the heat rush to me as I realized that…

Yes, I can carry him.

I was immensely happy. There was hope. It was definitely a good start, and a good way to boost my self confidence. I never thought that I can hold Hermione again, or at the least have the chance 

to.  

I started pulling him up, higher and higher, being careful not to lose my concentration. Just as I was about to let him down, gently as I could, the door burst open.

"Crookshanks! What happened?!?" my siren cried, as my heart twisted into a knot upon seeing her again. She laid her two grocery bags on the counter, as I felt the pressure on my fingers decreasing. Suddenly Crookshanks fell from my ghostly grasp, straight to the floor. Of course he was able to cushion himself, it wasn't so high up, but he immediately turned around and readied his attacking position. Of course, Hermione knew what it meant. Maybe, I was scared, but deep inside…

I knew that was what I wanted. Why?

Because she could recognize me.

"Who's there?" she inquired the air. Looking around for some sign, an invisibility cloak perhaps, or a shadow. _I'm here, Hermione. Feel me. _

"Come out!" She screamed. "Fight me!" She took her wand, which she kept in a cabinet by her door.

"I'm not here to fight!" I blurted. Crookshanks looked at me as if he was warning me. If I can hold him, it means he can equally attack me. He showed his teeth as a warning, but I didn't care. "I'm here for you Hermione!"

Just then, Crookshanks lunged towards me, on my neck. He was trying to bite me, but I can't feel anything. Still, out of surprise, I winced and tried to get him off me. Hedwig came flying trying to bite Crookshanks off with her beak. Hermione saw the scene the weirdest. Hedwig was biting Crookshanks who was attacking no one. 

Finally Crookshanks let go. I was exhausted from being surprised, surprisingly, and so I sat down.

Hermione was the only one that couldn't understand the matter. It was then that I asked myself what the purpose of me knowing that I can touch Crookshanks. Was it because I wanted to touch Hermione, to feel her? Or was it because I wanted her to feel me? I got my answer a couple of seconds later.

"Is Harry here?" she asked her pets.

"Yes! I'm here!" I screamed, my heart feeling like it's in the end of a cliff, choosing to fall or to hold on. Crookshanks made weird noise, obviously because of defeat. I was able to make him react so that Hermione can notice me. 

I saw her flutter her eyelids,  her chocolate crystals eyes being hidden from view. I stood a few feet from her, looking at her searching for me. She took a deep breath, and I felt that she doubted what she was going to say, but she continued anyway.

"I know this might be stupid, but, Harry….

….are you here?"

I smiled as if it was the happiest thing I ever heard. Maybe it was. It was a sign that my efforts did not and will not go to waste.

Maybe she will not hear me, so I decided to just keep quiet and let her take me in. _Understand, Hermione, that I will always be here…_I thought, not bothering to utter a single word. Instead, I let her feel me, feel my heart, even if I'm unsure I still have one. I feel that I have a heart, my emotions tell me I do, and if I didn't, maybe I'm not here anymore, not trying to have you again, like I used to. _Listen with the ear of your heart, Hermione, listen…_

She breathed again, her eyes lightly closed. 

_Do you remember everytime I would go into battle, you would always hold me back…_

"Yes," she whispered, the corners of her eyes, pooling with tears, "I remember.."

_I would tell you. That no matter what happens…I will come back to you, even if I'm in the other side of the world, even if I lost my memory, even if I was brainwashed or forced to align myself to _

"Voldemort," you ended softly, tears streaming down, creating rivers in your face. You do remember the man I killed, and the man who took me away from you. 

_I never thought it would truly happen, me dying, even if I considered it as an option for me. I never thought that I would die that soon, but I guess, Death never chooses whom he will take with him and who he will leave to live. But I was chosen, and I am terribly sorry for that. However, I'm not intending to break my promise. No matter what happens, I will come back to you. Even if I'm on the other side of the world, even if I lost my memory, even if I was brainwashed or forced to align myself to Voldemort… and even if I'm dead. I will come back to you Hermione, please wait for me._

"Who says I ceased from waiting? I'll die waiting for you, knowing that when I take my last breath, I will see you when I open my eyes. But I know you will keep that promise. Harry, are you near me?"

_Yes…_

"Then show me…"she whispered with so much longing. 

I walked up to you and held my transparent hands on your cheek. Then I knelt down and kissed you lips. 

No, it wasn't romantic, it wasn't fierce, it was just a kiss. Her lips pressed on mine. A kiss filled with promise, and assurance. She tried to hold on to me, even if I was letting go. But even she knew that things must come to a close. I parted from her. Hermione's tears never stopped falling, and her eyelids still kept her precious orbs from view. 

I looked around to see neither Hedwig nor Crookshanks around. I couldn't help but smile.

_Thanks you guys. I guess I owe you lots._

"Harry…" she whispered again, her voice filled with curiosity.

_Hmmm? _I replied…

"I felt you with the ear of my heart. I listened with my heart. And I heard you."

_Thank you for staying strong…_

"And thank you for keeping your promise." She replied. "I know that my waiting will not be wasted. Someone like you wouldn't let me down."

_That is only because someone like you can't be turned down. _Her heart brought more tears to her eyes, such overwhelming emotion being released from her heart. 

"I'm glad…" she started again, "That I can hear your voice again."

_I'm glad you can hear me…But now, maybe we should end this…You need your rest._

  
"I don't care, Harry, don't leave me."

_Who said I will?_

A/N: That's the end of it. I hope you liked it. I really like writing this chapter. I'm excited on getting it posted. If you were wondering how Harry could hold Crookshanks and vice versa, I have no idea, what came over me, but I guess it was because of Harry's love for Hermione, his desire for him to feel her. She did too, as seen from the kiss, etc. Just hold on, more will be coming, if you keep on reviewing. Also, I'm starting to realize the depth of this story. It's not just about Harry trying to return to the human world, but also the fight occurring among himself, telling him if he truly deserves to be with Hermione or if he is just being selfish. More of that in the next chapters. Anywho, I hope you tell me what you think. This chapter is a bit bittersweet, don't you think? At least Harry was able to kiss Hermione. 

What I'm trying to just say is, please review! Hope you do! And I want to thank all who reviewed the previous chapter, namely…

SleepieCareBear            - I'm glad you liked it even if it puts you in a weird state of mind. Yeah, I know, the previous chapter wasn't much, but I hope you enjoy reading this. It's a bit more "dramatic" I guess…Thanks!

Angelgirl-thanks!

IAM the Pest- Yeah, maybe you shouldn't have read this while listening to sad songs. Thanks for reading What's Snow Like! 

Wraith- I know, Harry is in a really bad state, but so is Hermione. However, hopefully things won't be like that in real life…

Allie- thanks for reviewing. Better be in good terms with your brother. Life is short. 

All Mighty Terrestrial- Yeah, I know. I guess I wanted to come up with an angst fic that doesn't cover those clichés and this one was what I got. I like the originality of it too, I mean, being different from all the other angst fics. 

Sybs- thanks for the compliment! I appreciate it. 

For the thing below, I guess that's a cliffhanger…will she see him? Scroll down and read to understand what I'm saying.

"I know. I was just making sure." You replied, still keeping your eyes closed.

_Why don't you open your eyes?_

"Because, I may not see you when I do. Will I see you Harry? Will I?" 

I smiled and closed my eyes.


	4. When You Face Death

A/N: Aiyee! I'm so happy that this chapter is done already. I hope it will be very pleasurable to all that will be reading this. And tell me what you think. I hope it's getting interesting. I don't think I can keep up with this being an angst fic, I don't know, it's starting to not be. Apparently, it was just sad in the first chapter. But still, I will try my very best to make this as angsty as I could, to please those angst-lovers out there. Also, I had Hermione's point of view later on in this chapter, for a change. So that we know what Hermione is also feeling. I would like to thank those that reviewed. It was great to have a good response toward this story. And I can see that my other fic (What's Held Within, in case you didn't know) is gathering good responses as well. 

**When You Face Death**

By prowess

_When you face death, what is it you see? _

_A bright light?_

_A slideshow of your life?_

_Or is it the one thing that makes you happy? _

_I saw you Hermione._

I smiled, a faint smile, a hurtful smile, and quietly said,

"No."

Her eyes flung open, as tears were freed quickly, and I couldn't help but cry myself. 

"No! Harry!"

And it was going so well. 

She closed her eyes again, covering her chocolate eyes from view. I remembered then and there the first time I opened my eyes, to find myself a spirit. It reminded me of that. I was in a bit of disbelief, and I tried so many things I knew I could never do, like hold her, or wipe away her tears.

She closed her eyes again, trying to concentrate. She was trying to have me back. But it just didn't work. 

We were back to reality. That I was dead, and she living. 

"Harry answer me!" she screamed. "Harry!" 

She leaned on the wall for support, from the screaming and crying she became exhausted, and knowing she cannot do anything, she slid down and wept. I slowly came by her and curled beside her, trying to encircle my arms to the curve of her body, and together…

We wept…

I opened my eyes as I felt the pain from crying the previous day. My eyes were swollen and I decided to not go anywhere yet, not to work, or go shopping, or do any other thing that I used to. I knew Harry was here at home, and I just couldn't leave, I can't. I can't think of doing anything better than to sit idly and wait, wait for Harry to come back. He didn't do anything afterwards. When I flung my eyes open, I only saw air, no emerald eyes to look at, or dark hair to witness. I didn't even see a gleam, a ray of light, or a ghost. I felt so alone, like I was strapped off of everything I had.

Because Harry was everything I had.

I couldn't help but wonder what he could be doing right now. Was he looking at me? Crying like I was? Was he holding me?  I stared at blank space, my eyes feeling so heavy. Are emerald eyes looking at mine? I can't say. I only see air.

When he said no, I immediately felt the end of his presence. When he said no, I remember trying to hold on to him. His departure was like a piece of interlaced silk brushing my body during a soft breeze. After that I felt nothing except loneliness. Pure loneliness…

A lot of people say I have to move one, it will do me good. I shouldn't wallow in my loneliness and get on with my life. I'm older, I should know better. But he came today and I felt him and heard him. He came, and he promised he will come back. I have to wait. 

Why let go if you can still hold on to it? If you can hold on to it, you just have to give it a tight pull and it will be right back in your arms. I have to move on, otherwise his efforts of coming back to me would be in vain. 

I have to pull myself together. I have to end my loneliness. Whatever it is I have to do, sorcery, spells, I have to bring him back using everything I have.

For the first time today, I feel contented. I shouldn't just sit around idly. If Harry doesn't have enough strength to come back to me, I'll help him. I found the strength to stand up and take the longest bath I probably ever had. I dressed into my most comfortable clothes. I take note of all the things I need. I felt like buying groceries, and when I get home, I would cook the best meal I have eaten in days. I just felt so light and optimistic. I felt my lips curving into a small smile, a smile of hope, a smile that I would see as I stare in Harry's eyes once again. As I leave my home, I turned around at looked at space. Somewhere around there sits Harry. I just know it. I smiled before closing the door.

Ever since Harry died, I couldn't help but wonder why it was supposed to end this way. I haven't fully accepted his death, he still should be the boy who lived. I remember my initial reaction when his eyes failed to open, revealing his bright green orbs. I remember just staring at his eyelids, patiently waiting for it to flutter open. I refused to believe that it would never open again. And I cried, because his stupid eyes were going to be closed for eternity. _Damn eyes_. I didn't even get to stare at it one last time. _Damn Harry. I didn't even get to say I love you one last time. _

I hate remembering the past. I hate remembering pain or sorrow. But Harry was my everything : past, present, future…pain, love, suffering, joy… It's not the pain or past I remember. It is Harry that I have, and if for this very reason I have to stand still as I watch everybody getting on with their lives saying they moved on, I would sit and hold on to the very last piece of thread that binds me to him. I will wrap my finger on what binds his new world and mine. 

After his death, you can really see who really his friends were. I curse those hypocrites who dare come to his funeral, talking about his bravery but at the truth of it all, never really had faith in him. I swear, if I hadn't had enough sanity in my system I would have killed them whatever rank or position they have. They never really cared for him, at least not like any of us did. Some were only there during his ultimate highs, and not a hair in sight during his ultimate lows. Some only used him for his popularity, for his reputation. Otherwise, Harry wouldn't even be looked upon by those mongrels. And yet, Harry didn't care. They were lost souls, he said. He still had enough respect for them, not thinking of doing anything to harm them. Still, others, can never cease talking crap out of him, telling all these exaggerated stories about Harry's mishaps, creating rumors that I knew bothered Harry. Still, he tried to be a good person, someone who can stand up proud, despite these kind of people. I don't know if they were angry or jealous of him, but he doesn't deserve to be hated just because of his fate, that is to be the Boy Who Lived. Although there were also those who loved him truly, and those who loved him though showed it discreetly. Harry always told me I was too concerned. I'd always reply, it's because I can see who really liked him as he was, and these people don't like him for who he really was. Simple, quiet, caring Harry. And he'd tell me, I was the only one who liked him as he was, accepting him without leaving anything to hate. Then I would pinch him in the cheek and he would pat me on the head. I knew I shouldn't be full of angst and be very emotional. These kinds of things were never really my thing. I never felt sad when I was with Harry. Disappointed, maybe, but never sorrowful. At least, not until he left…

But now, he's going to come back, and I'd help him come back or I'll die trying. I brush wells of tears forming around my eyes as I continue with what I've set out for. I turned into this corner to get to the grocery store faster. I had to pass through a dark passageway, where poor people normally stayed. A lot of them offered telling other people's fortune, but I didn't mind them. It's not like I don't know how to do it. I'm from Hogwarts for crying out loud. I can do better than dwindle other people's money for my personal preferences. But today, there seemed to be one person too many. I noticed a group of people running towards one corner of the passageway. A small crowd was gathering around this certain person whom I can truly recognize. 

Not only because of the voice…. 

But also because of what she's saying….

Here comes one of those hypocrites now.

A/N: Decided to cut it short. This is not exactly what I would call one of the best I've written, but I just had to whip something up to continue the story. Later on, things will be better. I hope that I have less grammatical errors now… I did hurry this up. Let me just tell you that school is like a fast food restaurant. Everything's in a hurry and you never get to stop because orders are always coming. So far, we have kilotons of homework and heavy projects every so often, not to mention the numerous exams per day. Final exams are near and I wanted to post a chapter to show that it's still progressing. To all those who waited for an update I am truly sorry like I usually am because of neglecting this. It's just that I really can't find the time wherein I can just sit back and think of the proper words to use to show the flow of the story. I'm used to writing chapters in one sitting and that takes a lot of hours, and if I cut it and continue it, it becomes different. That's why I have to read my chaps from chapter 1 again, cause I sometimes forget the flow. However, I wasn't able to take note of the stuff I wrote before so there might be things here that are not proportional to the previous chapters. Just tell me if you find any. Aside from the lack of time, (as if that wasn't enough a barrier) my grades aren't that high anymore, and if I show any enthusiasm in finishing my fics, my parents might use it against me. So, yeah,  I'm kind of outwitting them by avoiding to let this be one of the bribes they use to make me concentrate on studies. 

With regards to the grammatical errors and incorrect usage of words in the previous chapters, bear with me, I don't have the time to change them either. Perhaps in a few week's time when it's our break I can attend to it. Thank you for reminding me and if you see any more just tell me. 

Also with the changing of the title, yeah, I was thinking of it too. But I'll write chapters first…. J

I hope this doesn't look too hurried, otherwise I'll scrape it off and rewrite. The topic is pretty much boring, I know, but eventually it will be a whole lot more interesting. Just wait. So there, till the next chapter. I hope people who waited for this still get to see it. Thanks!

I tried to push my way in to see if the person who I'm thinking is really there. The words said were too much to bear and if I confirm the identity, I might not control myself.

"There was once a boy, named Harry Potter, and he was called the Boy Who lived. A pretty nice boy he was, very obedient, too bad that he had to die soon. I knew it would happen. Even he couldn't escape the clutches of the Dark Lord. There was no doubt in my mind that he wouldn't escape that hell. How horrible it must felt. Well, he's dead now. Although what I have told you is not even half as much interesting as this…"

I finally made my way in front and say myself staring wide eyed, not only at the person, but now at what is in the table. 

_When you faced death, what did you see? _

_A bright light?_

_A slideshow of your life?_

_Or the one thing that made you happy? _

_Will I see you again Harry? _


	5. Heart over Mind

**Notes of Prowess : **Well, here is the next chapter for, I think the most awaited fic amongst all that I have. It happens to be my favorite too, come to think of it. I'm actually glad that it is worth crying for. I really don't want to write a crappy angst story. Thank God people also realized the depth in it. I'm glad people saw Harry's dilemma about letting go. I think my foreseen ending would suck. It's cause I'm twisting myself all around. I'm debating on whether it's going to be a happy ending, or a sad ending or a happy and sad ending or a moderately sad with a tinge of happy ending, you get the picture. I think I squeezed all the juices in my brain already and I still haven't had the final destination for it. Although I think I'm on the right track. I hope I get inspiration on the way. I was kind of thinking if I was going to make a sequel for this or just leave it as it is, but I don't know. As for the renovations, the changing of chapters, and the like, I'm still taking into consideration finishing the story first before editing. Am I on the right track or will it be better for me to edit as soon as possible. If I do edit first, I update even more slower, which I think in the long run will give a very annoying cliffhanger so… I don't know. Anyway, here's the next chapter for Not Yet Forgotten. Enjoy. 

**Heart over Mind**

by prowess

            I prayed this day wouldn't come. But I knew it was inescapable. Yet I prayed it wouldn't come soon. But it did. It brought me to a stage of hatred and anger towards everyone who were like them. Like her. 

            It wasn't so much to shut up. I was able to do it. I was able to live alone, to keep the grief to myself and to will myself to move on though inch by inch. And I was Harry's friend. 

            I was Harry's love.

            What more to people who just met him once? Twice? Along the street? Can't they leave what is left behind and move on with their lives? Should they still relive each moment and tell it to everyone? Personally, I think it isn't their business. Sure, Harry is a hero to everyone who knows him. But heroes are a legend, their greatest contribution immortalized in the hearts of those he saved. And as for Harry, I intend it to be that way. I don't want his memory to be tainted by bad mouths, who talk of him bitterly. It doesn't take a lot to quietly come and go through all the doings during the funeral, to sit down and pay respects. It wasn't expected of everyone, but a few words of gratitude and admiration would lift the spirits of those he left behind. Yet, so many could not do it for Harry; despite all that he did for our world and beyond, there are just certain people who cannot just press their lips and move on with their lives. They can't let Harry be the wonderful memory everybody has. 

            There are just people who can't do it and it frustrates me. Despite their creative talents or their incomparable intelligence, they can't even respect a man who died an honest and honorable death; who gave a single life, his own, to save the rest. They can't even let his soul peacefully lie, knowing that he had done all he could and have done well, his only consolation that the people he left behind are safe and happy. Instead, they corrupt the essence of his memory. All that is left for me to hold in my heart are being dug out shovel per shovel and are being corroded with disparagement or condemnation. 

            I tried to brush it away. But it is so hard to look into the eyes of people he died for and see that they have neither remorse nor respect for the one who kept them alive for a hundred more years. It brings me to tears that such people think of him insignificantly now despite saying otherwise before.  The charlatans they are. They come to see his remains with a sorrowful mask on, but once they left, so did the mask dissolve and they continue with their lives as if nothing happened. And to them, nothing really happened. But to me, everything was lost. 

            I wished I didn't pass by this place. It was eerie and full of people I can live without. I didn't know why I chose to just walk, but inside my heart, I felt as if something was calling me. And then I heard her voice. A voice I prayed I never heard. I regretted following my heart then and there.

            She was definitely not my favorite, I never really listened to her nor believed her. I really don't care about her. If it were a different situation, I would've just left her head held high. But now, I'm on the brink of sobbing breathlessly. Because now, she has done something I can never forgive her for the rest of her life. Everything about what she said, made me want to just go and see if it was really her. And I prayed to all the gods and wished upon all the wizards and witches that she wasn't. But then again, I wished it was her. Just so I can hate her even more, if that is even possible. 

            "You see, Harry was a very nice boy. He was truly shocked during our first encounter. He didn't seem to believe a word I say, but I don't blame the young man. Things like that can really be a cause of denial. But no matter, since today I have come to tell you that I really speak of the truth. And now, I hold in my hands, the most precious work of the boy who lived. However, he is dead now of course."  Her small laugh made my blood warmer and my soul darker as I prevented myself from hexing. Thank God nobody laughed with her or I'd have burned the place down in a split second.

            "I really never thought you would stoop so low and preach around here Professor." I butted in unemotionally. "Is this where you 'work' now?" 

            "Granger. You never really tried to like me didn't you? You thought I was an old liar? From all that has happened, I guess you owe me an apology. I can predict things after all, hmm… Would you like it to be your turn now?" 

            "Don't you dare conclude that it was your prediction that determined Harry's fate. He would have died without your stupid premonitions. He would have died for anyone who needed him. For the sake of peace. Your so-called predictions don't measure to what he did so don't go telling everyone you were a part of all that has happened to him. Don't act like you're some hero, some divine messenger sent to preach people's deaths. You make me sick. Trying to prophesize events in people's lives and taking credit; overshadowing what they have truly done for our sake. What have you done anyway? How does it compare to what Harry has done? I can't believe he would save someone like you. If I were him I wouldn't even think twice if I were going to choose to leave you to rot. But then again, I salute him for being too kind."

"Which is why he is the hero and not you." I bit my tongue and clenched my fists. I pretended not to hear it. I denied being here. I wanted to get away from this reality. "You see, I really don't think people appreciate what I do. I warn them of what is bound to happen. Nobody sees me as the help I am supposed to be. Instead, I am persecuted and considered insignificant."

"If you claim to predict Harry's death, don't flatter yourself for thinking it was because of you that he is gone. You were one of hundreds, but none of you made sense. Everyone dies so don't take credit for saying it. Nobody tells others when they die and how.

            "Don't you see, Ms. Granger, that it is Harry that gets all the praise here. I do honor his death if you just cared to listen."

            "But with it came your magnification for yourself. I can't believe it professor, but it seems that you are in dire need of education on your own craft. You do not know how to handle it and your pride comes in the way. You should be ashamed of yourself. You're trying to convince people that you really are a real fate reader in expense of Harry's dignity as someone who sacrificed his life for all of us. You transformed what he has done into a betting game, where you are the winner who gets to say 'I told you so' in front of all of us. Well let me tell you something. He knew he could die when he fought there and it wasn't you that was in his head. It was a hope that once everything is over, we can all live peacefully. Look what you're doing. That is nowhere near what Harry wanted for us." 

"And who are you to say that that is what Harry wanted? I assume that are just mere conclusions of yours. Don't discriminate me for an act that you do yourself." Within a split second I had slapped her in the face.

One by one the people forming the crowd slowly walked away, pretending they heard nothing. They don't want to be part of a fight, more so between a pupil and a teacher. I take it back. I was never her pupil. I deny that I once became part of a class that didn't teach what I was supposed to be learning not only in witchcraft, but also in life. In the end it was just me and her staring face to face, me teary eyed and she emotionless. I have said all I had to say. But there was just one last thing I had to let her know. Before I spin on my heels and walk away, and pray that I never cross paths with her again. 

"What I want for Harry, is a state of peace. Because it is the only thing he can get from where he is now. And it is the only thing I can give him, by stopping rumors spreading about him, all those half truths and lies, by letting everyone know what he has done so he would be satisfied. I want people to remember him as a hero, just like he deserves to be. I don't want him to be remembered as a fulfillment of a premonition because that is not what his life is about. I don't want him to be remembered for the undeserving things. And I will do anything to get it, even if it means shouting to you or to anyone that stands in my way. You don't have to tell me when I'll die. It doesn't matter, because I will anyway. And before I do, I won't think of you, or if you really predicted my death; because it isn't important. I have more important things to worry about by then and it doesn't include you." As another cold tear played in the sides of my eyes before slowly jumping to my pale cheeks, I slowly turned around and took a big step forward. My other foot followed, and I felt as if I was walking the slowest I ever had in my life.  I took big breaths, trying to alleviate myself from what just transpired. And I wished she never said anything anymore, so that I can just continue walking and walking away from her. I vowed never to pass by that place again; but then again, maybe she won't be there anymore. Still, I won't take any chances. I just wanted to go to Harry right now. Just as I saw more people walking around and just before I blended with the crowd what I dreaded to hear came and it felt as if my ears weren't the ones who heard it. It was my heart again, and being the fool that I am, I listened, despite my preconditions of not listening in times like this. 

"Take it," she said. I rolled my eyes in protest, but then I questioned what she said. What did it mean? I didn't want to turn around, so I just stopped and froze right there. By people walking and doing their business. Time seemed to move slow, and all I heard was her voice calling me to take whatever she wanted me to.

"What?" I said impatiently, and annoyingly, making sure she got the idea that I never wanted to talk to her ever. 

"Harry's most prized possession." My eyes widened. For a moment, I failed to catch that detail. I was blown away by what she said that I didn't digest that she said anything about Harry's prized possession. I spun quickly around and walked towards her, doubtingly, every step with me questioning myself if it was right. I mean, I did say I never wanted to see nor hear her again, and I wanted to keep my Word. In no time, I was in the same spot I released all my feelings to her, but this time instead of a face filled with anger, I wore a veil of disbelief. 

"Don't ask where I got it. I won't tell you whatever you do. But even if you deny my powers, I predicted I was going to give it to someone special to Harry, so take it." It was wrapped in brown paper, secured with thick rope. I didn't want to trust her on this one, but again my heart fluttered when she did say that. I still don't believe it was her powers. Maybe it was just logic that got into her. But I didn't argue anymore. I have said all that was in my heart, and nothing was left except for longing for Harry. 

"What if I don't want to take it? Just to prove your "premonitions" don't work? Is my denial included in your 'premonition'" I asked sarcastically. 

"I just said I'll give it to someone special, whether you accept it or not. It is up to you if you'll take it, unless you are not the special someone I envisioned." She replied emotionlessly. Silence ensued the most uncomfortable I ever experienced. I wasn't sure if I was going to take it. But then I thought, what so bad about bringing it?

"You know Ms. Granger, I admire your personality. Very few people are like that nowadays. You won't see me here anymore if you are worried about passing here again. But I'd like to thank you. I don't know if you want to see me after this but it does not matter. Good luck with your journey, and your impossible dream." She stood up and left taking all that was hers and leaving the package on the table. As her footsteps sounded farther and farther, I just stared at the wrapped object. I took it and slowly opened it. My eyes widened as I saw the red velvet. I knew I saw it at Hogwarts. And I knew it was Harry's.

It was his journal, a present he received during his sixth year: what he called his maturing year, where he said he had grown to accept things around him. It was a collection of events in his life, at Hogwarts, with Ron and me and his other close friends. We even wrote some inserts in between his passages writing wacky comments and funny faces. Tears welled up my eyes remembering the times. As I reminisced, Trelawney's voice echoed in my head, and what she last said made me wonder. It seemed so shallow, but my heart, again, told me there was something deeper to it. I didn't know what, but it just echoed in my mind, even when I was at my apartment, in my bedroom, with my favorite night garments and my fluffiest pillow. I stared at the ceiling and just before closing my eyes, I bid my good night to Harry and her voice floated to the air again. My ears weren't hearing anything, but my heart was, receiving the message loud and clear. 

Good luck with your journey, and with your impossible dream….

            Journey, and with your impossible dream….

                        Your impossible dream…

                                    Dream…

                                                Dream…

Notes of Prowess: There I ended it. I am so happy, I am back into writing. I hope people still get to read this. I hope updated stories don't come that often so that this little piece of writing can still be recognized and reviewed on. I was reading all the mail and comments I received and the fact that people actually think this can win an award is just…WOW…it just lifted my spirits up a bit (okay, a LOT) so I'm so psyched to get the development in the story. I hope you got the hints of depth, as what I like to call them, in the chapter. Kind of like the dilemma of Harry wanting to live again to be with Hermione or let Hermione be as he watches her as a spirit…You know, deep insights like that in a seemingly shallow story. It was the question in my mind as I write this story actually, that if you were dead what would you want for yourself, you know? It is actually hard to answer which is why the ending is still kind of twisted. Anyways, there are also some hints of depth I placed on this chapter. I don't know if you get to see it but it's there. I did question premonition, and it's not that I am against it or anything, I just needed it for the story.  Appreciating it for the angst or storyline is fine, but it's nice to go deeper, you know? Sort of like phenomenological theory in philosophy about realizing something deeper in simple things- that's what I pretty much do in this story which is actually interesting cause it's just now that I learned about philosophy and I'm already writing around doing it before I knew it existed. I did touch a pretty different character here, Trelawney, and to tell you the truth I don't know much about her, but she seemed like a stern person in the book. She might be out of character her but I just needed to get her attitude, and boasting about predicting Harry's death to another level. I hope I didn't overdo it. This chapter was pretty long, I hope I get more inspiration and time to write as long as this. Anyway, your comments please, I got frustrated about What's Held Within cause it was easily swept away by new updates so I guess nobody really saw it, but I hope this is different. Was I gone for that long? Geez…I think I'm beginning to regret it. Till the next chapter then, but before that a little extra something for you…

            Hermione woke up, beads of sweat trickling down her cheeks. She pushed her hair back and cleared strands of hair stuck to her skin from her forehead. She wasn't breathing heavily, but she felt cold. It was a strange dream she had, I guess, but I wouldn't know, she looked peacefully asleep as I watched her from where I am. She is still so beautiful. I don't know what happened during her day today, I didn't follow her, but she seemed pretty happy when she came. There was a package in her hands. Maybe somebody gave her a gift to cheer her up. 

            I dreamt of something different. Never mind the sweat or the cold. It was about me and Harry, and the diary. I tried to brush it away, but I felt as if this was a piece of the puzzle I am solving. I felt as if the pieces were all before me, but I can't seem to put them together. I was getting irritated already, not wanting to go through this anymore. Then my heart skipped a beat, and then pumped heavily as I finally got hold of what I was feeling a while ago with Trelawney. It was the same mixture of feelings – confusion, doubt, disbelief… But it seemed like there was a sudden splash of hope and I felt that I saw the puzzle coming together in front of me. Then it came again. 

Good luck with your journey, and with your impossible dream….

Good luck with your journey, and with your impossible dream….

Good luck with your journey, and with your impossible dream….

Come to think of it…my dream seemed impossible, but achievable. Maybe Trelawney had a bit of truth in her, maybe not. Whatever it is, I deny the fact that I have to thank her for this one. 


	6. Would you like a sequel!

A/N: I was wallowing in self-pity and in my being a frustrated slow updating writer when I had this brilliant sequel to this fic. The question is...

WOULD YOU LIKE A SEQUEL?!?!? You can just review

So okay, for those that didn't get that sort of ending....i had writer's block and I couldn't move forward so it was like a hurried ending. Like, Hermione had the last piece of Harry (his diary) she could hold on to and there's hope that she'll be able to see him again. I guess I didn't exemplify that a little too well. That's the part I got stuck. How will she see him again? That's the reason for the sucky ending. But now I know! So I hope you're still there to support this.

The good news is, I'm free for two weeks!!!! The bad news is, my mom has to finish her thesis. So it's computer battle royale between me and my mom. I do get the computer during the wee hours of the morning, although I think of the creative stuff in the heat of the afternoon. I need a laptop.

SO the questions are:

would you like a better ending/ a sequel?

Would you like me to create a new story or just continue from here?

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE TELL ME. If you guys don't want a sequel I'll just write it using a different series (meaning it's not HP). It would be a waste though cause it fits this one better. You know I can just go ahead an post it but the reason I'm asking you guys is so I see if enough people are interested. These are one of my good/fave fics so I want my writing to be worth it.

Sorry for my rambling and incoherence.

prowess


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